Homily

As I have told you before almost every Saturday night I watch the television program “Cops” from 8:00 to 8:30. Last night a police officer noticed a young man who looked suspicious, suddenly turn around and go onto the porch of a house and ring the doorbell after he saw the police car. The officer stopped and asked him to come down and speak to him. He starts to question the young man who is holding a 16-ounce convenience store soft drink cup in his hand, with a lid and a straw in it. When the officer takes the lid off the cup he finds 37 little pieces of methamphetamine, wrapped in plastic, inside the cup. “What is this?” he asks. “Those aren’t mine. I was with my friends and I must have picked up the wrong cup.” The officer then asks “Who lives in that house where you were ringing the doorbell?” “Joe. A guy named joe. I was going to talk to him because we want to start a Neighborhood Watch program.” “Neighborhood Watch program?” asks the officer. “Who are you going to watch for? The cops?” There’s probably many reasons I like to watch “Cops” on Saturday night. There is a lot of talk about God, as in “I swear to God I didn’t do it.” Also, if I think about myself in comparison to many of the people in handcuffs, I feel a little more virtuous on a Saturday night.

So I hope you don’t mind if I get a little personal today and talk about an item that I have wanted to talk about many, many times in the past, and I never did, but this morning I will. When I was a seminarian I learned that there was a summer job available at a very large parish in Cleveland. They were looking for a seminarian to take the parish census, to go door to door to all the addresses of registered parishioners and update the information on their registration cards. I was to wear a clergy shirt so that people would realize I was from the parish. This was in the late 70s. I knocked on one door and an older man answered. “What do you want?” he barked at me. I explained why I was there. “Well I haven’t been to church in 20 years and I’m not going back now.” I asked him, “Why not?” Then he told me his story. He had worked hard all his life. He and his wife had big plans for after he retired. They were going to travel the world and see all the places they had wanted to visit for many years, and they had saved a good deal of money over time in order to do this. And then, one month before he was supposed to retire, his wife suddenly died. “So I’m mad at God and He’s not going to be seeing me in church.” As he was telling me his story he started out very angry, then he became more sad and some tears rolled down his cheek. And then he moved back to being angry and defiant against God.

Needless to say, I was quite surprised. I have no memory of what I said to him, but I can still see his angry expression. I know of people who have stated that they no longer practice their faith because they are angry with God. But there are also saints who have been angry with God at some point in their life as well. I, myself, could never understand how a person could be angry with God, although I know that it happens. I mean, God is God. He is above all that is, He created all that is, I believe He loves me to my very core and He forgives me whenever I ask and He wants me to live with Him and in Him forever and ever. How can I ever be angry with Him? I’m not trying to say I think I am better than people who do become angry with God. As I said, some great saints had moments when they were angry with Him. But for me perhaps the danger is in not paying proper attention to this God Who loves me so profoundly. Lent is an opportunity to not take God for granted but to allow Him to settle in more deeply into the very heart and soul of my life so that I may take up the divine life He wants me to share in.

Young children, and older ones as well, can sometimes be very, very angry with their parents. And yet they still show up at the dinner table. Underneath it all they still know their parents love them. Maybe nobody here is angry with God today and that’s a good thing. But it might be, as children often do with their parents, that we have neglected Him, taken Him for granted, turned our attention to what we thought was good for us, been distracted by the goods and the cares of the world, placed our hopes in what is temporary and trusted in our own ability to live and have good lives. Friday I was stopped at the light on Aspen Street getting ready to turn left onto Centennial. My light turned green and I began to pull out. A woman on Centennial had her turn signal on to indicate she was going to turn right onto Aspen. She did, right through that very solid red light. She was on her cell phone and she didn’t seem to notice she was running through a red light. That’s a metaphor for Lent, I think. A time to get off the cell phone and notice God is standing on the corner waiting for us to pick Him up. He wants to travel with us as we ride along through our lives because, as our Creator, He loves us so very much.

So I’m praying that this whole parish will be on the Neighborhood Watch. We will be waiting and watching for the Lord until He takes pity on us, as the Psalmist said. A season of watching for the Lord—watching for His guidance, watching for His grace, watching for His pardon, watching for His gift of life. So this Lent as you can see in the bulletin and calendar, there will be at least one service almost every day when I am here, in church, at different times so that you can more easily come and watch and pray during these coming weeks. Those who watch for the Lord, those who wait for the Lord, will never be put to shame.